


What are you up to?

by macgyvershe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Love Actually - Freeform, M/M, Teasing, sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet night at the flat and John senses that something is up with Sherlock. Something is always up with Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What are you up to?

“What are you up to?” John asked from the comfort of his chair.

Sherlock immediately turned to view that part of the flat behind him. Checking to see if John was talking to someone else.

“Now don’t play coy – you Sherlock Holmes cannot pull off coy.” John smirked. He had the consulting detective by the kinky follicles.

“I beg your pardon.” Sherlock said his left eyebrow ascending into the stratosphere.

“You are over there in your chair plotting and scheming and I will not stand for it.” John gave a grumpy face.

“Will you lie down for it?” Sherlock teased.

“Are you propositioning me?” John was making his fish out of water face and sitting forward on the edge of his chair.

“Is it a proposition if both parties are already confirmed in their mutual capitulation to said act?” Sherlock gave one of his tiny smiles. The one that drove John to distraction.

“Are you just taking the piss?” John’s eyes opened fractionally, while his lips thinned and his rather intimate tongue gave a brief but sexy appearance.

Sherlock looked down at his crouch and said dismissively. “No. I can confirm no piss.”

John looked at the rather large lump in Sherlock’s bespoke dress slacks and began a smile, which evolved into a giggle, which mutated into bells of laughter.

Sherlock just loved to make John laugh.

“Come here, you.” John used his captain’s voice with deep overtones of severe affection.

Sherlock stood. His long legs where mere strides away from John. Yet he took mincing, crabby steps toward John. Delighting in prolonging the journey. As soon as he was within John’s grasp, John grabbed his shirtsleeve, pulling him down. Amazingly, Sherlock was able to fold up his long lankiness neatly until he sat in John’s lap.

“Did I ever tell you, you are a tall bag of crisps, Sherlock?” John said lovingly.

“Ah, but I’m your tall bag of crisps.” Sherlock said leaning his head on John’s shoulder.

John had learned early on that though Sherlock claimed to be high functioning in a majority of the areas of his life, in matters of intimacy and sex he was very child-like. This brought out the protective instincts in John. He could see how vulnerable Sherlock was and had been all his life. John didn’t want to think too much, about how taken advantage of Sherlock was in his earlier days. The bullying and intolerance that he had suffered for his scathing truthfulness and rapid-fire rhetoric that mowed normal people down without a moment’s hesitation.

In John, Sherlock had found someone so suitable to his very eccentric nature that it defied logic. Everyone else in Sherlock’s life saw him as a badass, corrosive mouthed, genius, with no sense of personal space. No care of concern for ‘normal’ social graces; no common sense at all. Unless he was shamming his way into or out of something.

John looked into those eyes that like electricity, shocked and amazed with their beauty and intensity. He saw a young man, emotionally, barely out of adolescence. Fragile, breakable. A heart tested by the cruelty of children and later by uni peers.

John always felt his love deepen at moments like this. He found his strong arms tighten around the slender frame in that protective circle. “I’ve got you,” he said with emphasis on each and every word. “I love you.” *No one will ever touch your heart again. You are in my care now.* John thought.

Sherlock let out a breath of contentment. Further melting into John’s body.

“Okay. I need extensive vigorous sex now.” Sherlock declared as he popped up from his relaxed position, pulling John up with him.

Thoroughly amused John followed as he always did.

“I’m going to vigorously sex you into the furthest halls of your fucking Mind Palace.” He stated as Sherlock pulled him along.

Sherlock turned and scooped up his smaller lover. Knowing that this insult would rain down revenge upon his person later. Taking huge strides to their bedroom. He set John down, prepared for the indignation this activity always brought out in John.

Grabbing John by his silk jumper (one he himself had purchased for John). He initiated a forceful and overpowering kiss that stoppered up the irritation and brought out the raging lust that he knew simmered just below John’s sexy surface. It was what he wanted now more than anything else in the world.

“Off.” John commanded through the side of his mouth, as the kiss would not allow full use of said mouth. “Naked NOW.”

Sherlock completely disrobed while clinging to that insane kiss. Finally having to let loose the kiss while he hurriedly plucked John’s clothing off in record time. (He had it down to less than one minute, point two-five-seven seconds).

John laughed. His nakedness was always so glorious and good in Sherlock’s eyes. He grabbed Sherlock as he settled down upon the soft surface of the bed.

“I’ve got you.” John murmured again. Knowing Sherlock didn’t like repetition, knowing he could say this all night without fear of retaliation. “I’ve got you, love.”

It was a night. A night like all their nights before, when the gale-force wind that was Sherlock Holmes met the eye-of-the-hurricane that was John Watson. The night when transport met truly unconventional healer/soldier/lover extraordinaire.

In John Watson, Sherlock found diametrically opposing facets. Healer and destroyer. A man of strong passions and even stronger convictions. Such a monumental mystery was John Watson.

That mystery would last a lifetime. A thousand times a thousand lifetimes. Sherlock would never grow tired of his John. John would never grow weary of protecting and nurturing his Sherlock. 

(-_-)

Sherlock lifted himself up and away from John. The liquids and lotions of their ‘vigorous sex’ like a sticky glue that bound them together in perpetuity.

“Your turn.” John said, as he lay boneless and breathing hard from their labors.

“No, you said you’d get it next time. This is next time.” Sherlock huffed and puffed as he pulled moist tissues from their container next to the bed. Languidly he mopped up the majority of the mess they both had created.

“You get it this time and I’ll do the next two times.” John bargained from his horizontal position. 

“You wanker.” Sherlock said with growing humor. “I’ll take pity on your old hide this time. Next time I’ll roll you right out of this bed.”

“You will, will you?” John perked up and grabbed a hand full of long curly black locks, dragging Sherlock’s lips to his.

A kiss that left Sherlock dizzy and barely coherent. He forgot what it was he was about to do. 

“Can I have several more of those?” He asked as he engulfed John’s body once again. 

“Ah-ha!” John said in triumph. “I will have my way with you.”

“Yes, please and many times more.” Sherlock purred with his rich baritone cascading over John’s senses.

“Damn, but that voice of yours is as sexy as hell.”

John rolled them over in bed. He was where he wanted to be. Skin to skin with the sexiest consulting detective in the world. The man of his dreams and sometimes his nightmares. The man he would do anything for and anything too. The man that drove him mad and maddeningly gave him permission to drive this crazy relationship anywhere he wanted to.

“I’ve got you.” Sherlock said into the shell of John’s ear. 

John being the Sherlock whisperer knew what he was really saying. “I love you. Now and throughout the rest of whatever time allotted us. I love you, always.”

John buried himself in that body beneath him. He smothered his lover in kisses and strength, caresses and gliding touches of the highly erotic type. 

Sherlock’s mobile buzzed an incoming text.

John closed his eyes and held on to that second of time. Slowly, he let go of Sherlock and he sighed a deep breath, letting the moment stay tangled in his memory forever. He lifted himself off a bit to give Sherlock space.

Sherlock leaned over to the bedside stand and lifted the mobile to click a few buttons.

“What are you up to?” John asked with curiosity in his eyes as Sherlock put the mobile back down on the hard surface and returned to John’s embrace.

“The work will be there.” He said a winsome smile giving his face that youthful look. “I’ve got you. I’m not going to give you up right now.”

John giggled and lowered himself down to the surface of Sherlock’s body again. Sherlock had turned the mobile off.

Sherlock definitely turned John on.


End file.
